First Post for Bruce: Redneck Charlie

At the risk of breaking Internet convention, I thought I'd cross-post a little poetry I'd previously posted here, just to get in the habit of contributing to the Adelaide Plains Chapter and Verse blog. 'Redneck Charlie' was originally intended for an Adelaide Plains Chapter and Verse meeting in March, so it probably, more rightly, belongs here!

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Charlie: rusted out, four-wheel-drive, shit-bucket. Conveyor of cray pots.

I remember the late nights on Flinders highway driving home, air from the engine warming bare feet through a rusted cabin. Sand and shell grit falling away from toes and hems as they dried out.

Charlie was my first drive. Off-road. It helped that I didn’t have a road to keep on, nor that I had to dodge any trees. Charlie made short work of whatever got in the way as long as I kept him in first gear.

Mind you, the prickle bush could swipe back, so it paid to keep the windows shut –  an advantage not afforded by the tractor I once got up on two wheels.

I never knew where Charlie went. One day he was there, and the next, Dad brought home a white Ford ute, V8, cassette stereo, broken antenna and all.

Charlie probably deserved to go out with a bang, and Dad was fond of blowing things up at the time.

~ Bruce